My knees are burning. My back is cramping. Tears stream down my cheeks in frustration. All I want to do is dance again. To move. To feel alive.

Wall of blank.

Exhaustion rises up, fog descends.

My mantra: I am lucky. This is temporary. This too shall pass.

I don’t believe it.

My body tells me that all there is is Now. Now is all. It might be correct.

I curl up on the floor. Empty.

I catch my breath. Numb.

Noticing, with strange detachment, that the world has become distant. That I’ve been a quiet automaton for hours, days… perhaps longer.

I breathe myself back into my body. Back into my feet. Back into the burning, aching flesh.

At least I feel alive.

I notice. Even restrained, even with the limits of movement, even with the fog and frustration, Here and Now, if I can keep my self in my belly, in my feet, in my hands, in my flesh… I can breathe and expand. The deeper into the flesh I go, the deeper into the magic. The deeper into the world I sink, the more I can expand, the more I am aware of. Oh it hurts, yes, but with each breath is life. With each prickly of goosebumps the wild spirits brush my skin with fingertips, tentacles, lips dripping in nectar.

The more present I am, the more present I am with Them. The gods stand behind me, the ancestors whisper in my ear, the spirits draw near. I can feel my edges, raise my shields, let down my hair, call out the cry of a Witch in the night.

The deeper into my body I can stay, when all my instincts are to flee, to float into painless disconnection, the closer the magic is.

Her and Now. Here and Now at the crossroads of every moment. Here and Now is where the web of Wyrd is woven, where the Power lies.

I am lucky, this too shall pass, this too shall return to the Fertile Darkness from whence it came, I am lucky, there are lessons here, if I can just stop running, just be Here and Now.

I was thinking, at Druid Camp, that my initial impression of druids was not favourable.

I grew up a half hour bus journey from Avebury. When I was 18 I spent each of the 8 neo-pagan Festivals camping in Avebury. During the summer months I saw a particular group of Druids performing open, public rituals there. So far so good. Except that the leader would start with “Let’s do this quick so we can get to the pub!” and end it with “To the Pub!” with a fair amount of alcohol already having been imbibed.

I was not impressed that the ritual seemed to be done as an obligation, rather than as a devotional act, or an offering, or a joyful service, or a celebration, or whatever. It felt like a public show of “Look at us! Aren’t we great! Honouring the Old Ways ™!” getting in the way of drinking, rather than something that was important to the druids officiating.

It didn’t help that at this point I was teetotal.

Now, I’m certain it was important to them. I’m certain this was a bit of a joke, and I’m all for irreverent reverence. But when you are performing public ritual in a very public place then, surely, you have to expect that you are giving some people their first impression of pagans in general and druids in particular? Surely you need to take this into account?

For me, this was my first encounter with druids, and I was not impressed.

At one festival there was a second ritual, run by Bobcat and others (I only remembered Bobcat’s name because, well, bobcats!) which I really loved, but it was too late. I actually thought it was part of the same group. I’d dutifully attended all the rituals I came across whilst there in order to learn as much as I could. And because I’d assumed these were the same kind of practitioners – i.e. they’re all druids, right? So they’re all part of the same thing, right? – I didn’t really want to be involved in a group that had the opening and closing of a ritual revolving around getting wasted.

This is not to say I didn’t have good experiences with druids there. I had some lovely conversations. I also had some amusing ones where very high (as in stoned) druids attempted to educate me (conflating youth with inexperience – by then I’d been practising (neo)Witchcraft and magic for 7 years!).

Their case was also not helped, in my eyes, by the fact that I only saw them doing their public rituals in the summer. Now I suspect they performed their winter rituals somewhere sensible, or on a different day so I can’t really hold that against them!

The other issue were the moots. I got so frustrated at the few I attended with the lack of discussion about the things we shared in common – i.e. an interest in magic/paganism/druidry/stories/etc – and, when I asked someone if we were going to talk about anything, well, magical, their response was “Why would we talk about that? This is a moot!” And off they went to get drunk.

Anyway. The point of all this reminiscing is this: when we are out and about in a visible role as pagan, druid, witch, magic-worked or whatever, we are representatives, rightly or wrongly, of the group we present ourselves as belonging to. I was desperate for local pagans to connect with at that point in my life and could only find people who either patronised me or put me off!

For years I understood druids to be drunken show-offs who only paid lip-service to magic and the gods. Eventually I met some who clearly weren’t like that and slowly came to understand that that kind of group was a minority, though a VERY public minority.

This has me thinking about responsibility of visibility.

So should we make ourselves visible if we believe we are able to counteract some of the negative stereotypes and representations of our groups? Do we have a responsibility to provide an alternative to those who we feel are being unethical in their presentation? How? And, really, to what end?

I haven’t got answers, just ponderings. And a growing desire to offer workshops in ritual skills and ritual etiquette! But that might just be showing my Reclaiming Witchcraft roots…

Anyway. It isn’t really a problem with druids at all. It can be found in any group. The racist Heathens of the AFA are likely to drive good people away from Heathenry as a whole. Bitchy Witches can put people right off attending a moot or a gathering a second time. And I know of plenty of people who won’t come to Pagan Soc meetings because the society is made up of newbie pagans who haven’t found their feet yet, and they find it tiring/etc. So the questions are the same; What can we do about it? What should we do about it? Or is it just one of those things? And who am I to judge them for how they want to present themselves and their path?

Thankfully my impression of druids as a whole has changed… and I still love Avebury!

As I posted yesterday, I will be blogging on each of the points of the Iron Pentacle. As areas which need healing for almost all individuals, these concepts can be triggery, can be upsetting, and can bring up issues and objections for people. For that reason alone I’ve put this post under a cut.

If you are worried and still want to read: I do not, in this post, talk directly about specific experiences, or outline anything that is unsafe for work, as it were. If you do not want to read, please pass on by…

I’ve been involved in the Reclaiming tradition for about 7 years now, and one of the tools which is taught as a ‘core class’ in Reclaiming is the Iron Pentacle. Paired with the Pearl Pentacle, this meditational tool came from Feri and has evolved within Reclaiming into something slightly different, and just as useful. I shan’t be talking about the history, or much about the differences, here, but I would like to share some thoughts about these pentacles over the next few weeks.

The Iron pentacle rewards repeated work. It has as its points topics which hold a great deal of power for people in our culture, and which our society has denigrated and damaged and made taboo. The words themselves have power, and were chosen for this reason; if we can reclaim them in a healthy way, we can heal the divisions within ourselves that denying parts of our birthright has caused.

The points of the Iron Pentacle are:

Sex

Pride

Self

Power

Passion

Why Iron? Well, the earth has a core of iron, and we are of the earth, made of starstuff which has settled into a planet and lives. Our blood contains iron, iron strengthens us, keeps us alive. Iron is also an irritant; it scratches and stimulates and brings things to the surface. When red hot iron energy flows through us it burns away blocks, releasing energy which we have bound up in those places, which has not been allowed to flow.

We start with Iron to cleanse and strengthen our foundations as human beings. As human we are alive and sensual, we all have something we can be proud of, we have selves which are worthy of care and love, we hold the power in ourselves to act in the world and shape our lives, and we have passions and feel. Our culture has denigrated all these things. We are alive, we are blessed to walk this earth, and we have a right to delight in being alive, in community with other embodied beings. I intend to write a series of posts exploring each of these points from the perspective of the Reclaiming tradition.

At its heart, the Iron Pentacle is about healing ourselves and becoming strong in ourselves, in order to heal our community, our culture, the world. As everything is connected, healing one part heals part of the whole, and this ripples out…

Every time I come across mention of a creative retreat, I wish I was on one.

People talk of meeting other writers and spending a block of time just writing together, sharing stories and ideas and support, challenging each other and being there for each other. This appeals to me.

People talk of getting together with other artists to carve out a precious piece of time dedicated to creating art, honing skills, and immersing themselves in the creative process. This, too, appeals to me.

I love working with other people around, also working on the same kind of thing. Going on the university run Philosophy conference sets aside time in a beautiful place dedicated to just doing Philosophy and inspiring each other, and means that all sorts of things happen in writing and sparking ideas.

Maybe, then, instead of trying to set aside time to study each day I can plan a ‘private conference’ for myself, where I listen to philosophical podcasts, hunt down articles and offer up ideas for comment soemwhere like Facebook. Perhaps doing this will inspire me to dive back into my studies, and interacting with others will help me keep motivated?

Perhaps I could invite others over for creative afternoons, even if we just connect through Skype and blogs and Facebook? And perhaps, if no-one else is available, I can allow myself time for specific projects that I can get excited about in the anticipation-soaked wait… so half the reason, the retreat side of retreating, can at least be pressent.

I could join in on Play-date Tuesday, or workless Wednesday.

I could join the One World, One Heart giveaway to focus myself.

I could solicit interest here and now… Anyone up for getting together sometime? Either digitally or, even better, in person? Bring your creative project and I’ll bring mine, we can picnic in a park or make forts in a living room! Any other philosophy students out there? We can share interesting online talks, share summaries of our current pieces for inspiration and support, maybe even *gasp* get some discussion going?

Anyone else interested?

In the meantime, I’m going to experiment with reframing ‘study-sessions’ into ‘private conferences’ or retreats and see if I can get back into my studies by imagining they’re as fun as they are!

(I enjoy my studies while doing them, its getting started that I’m struggling with… bribery, time-limits, and making a schedule hasn’t helped so far, lets see if making a game of it will!)

I’ve a good sense of who I am and what I want… its just making that choice, stepping, with both feet at once (a leap, really) into the future I’ve turned towards. It looks like I’ve chosen, but I’m not quite committed, not yet.

I’ve burned the bridge back, amicably but definitely.

I’ve been given, handed on a silver platter, an opportunity to make the transition easily, and it still feels so hard because I’m scared.

What if? What if?

I’m deep-down-in-my-very-core terrified. And I know its this way or nothing. It feels so right. I’m scared and certain, at the same time. Fear and desire, those dancing twins.

From the tension, as Thorn has taught me, can be born a new thing, a third thing, a proud thing. I can make a choice, and raise the new-born peacock high.

What am I choosing? What have I turned my caravan* towards?

I’ve chosen to move back to the green hills of Wales (though I’ve kept my job in England as a safety net), I’ve chosen to start writing more seriously, both academically and magically (see the Feyhearted blog for a weekly project which has been weekly for 6 weeks, and is scheduled to be weekly for another 2 weeks already. I’m not only continuing a project, I am actually ahead of deadline! Go me!). I’ve chosen to do what will make me happy, rather than follow the trail of shoulds that have been threatening for a year.

I successfully buried an important thing there. Something I don’t really belive but, look! See all the times I do it! I appear to be becoming a…

Writer.

Artist I get. Witch I get. Academic, student, dreamer… all things I’ve long accepted. I still ignore the label ‘writer’. Its important to me. I write all the time. More than I make art. And I have trouble with it. Despite having written a book. Having written many short stories. Having kept a sporadic blog (or 5) for years. Having written essays and dissertations… and having enjoyed the process.

So yes, I’ve chosen to be a writer. Among other things. Since, if you don’t do/know/love other things, what do you write about?!

There are other ways, other commitments I am in the process of making, like actually releasing my old home and becoming present in my new home. This one feels key though… I find, strangely, that I love to write, I long to.

This is the sixth post in a series of suggestions for re-enchanting your life, one pixie kiss at a time. The introduction is here, and you can watch the path unfold here.

Who are you?

Who do you dream of being?

To be enchanted without becoming lost it is key to know your own heart, the centre of your self, the home of your soul. So now we turn from the space around us, and the beings that are our allies, and the enchantment already in the world, to face our own selves.

This is the Fourth of a series of suggestions for re-enchanting your life, one pixie kiss at a time, originally posted here. The introduction is here, and you can watch the path unfold here.

From Thomas Moore’s Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life:

“Every patch of ground that has a tree growing in it echoes Eden and is a reminder of our origins in an enchanted garden. Once we stop taking trees literally, we begin to see how they frame the world we look at every minute of our outdoor life… Eden is always with us, unless and until we narrow our vision, forgetting myth and disregarding aesthetic perception, and the trees of Eden are also always with us, full of mystery and implication.”*

Trees are central, in so many ways, to our lives. We know that they provide oxygen, and soak up CO2… its like we breathe with the plants of the world, we breathe out as they breathe in, they breathe out and we breathe in.

Standing in the snow in my pyjamas as the clouds lining the sky lightened with dawn, I breathed in the beauty of the Solstice morn.

I gazed at the orange sky above, lit by streetlamps, and smiled at the branches, dark under the snow. I used to climb this tree with a book, just to spend time in its branches.

The sun is beginning its yearly return today, and though its cold and dark now, I know that each night will be shorter, each day longer… much as I love the night, I appreciate being able to walk home from work in daylight!

I’m thinking about goals, desires, choices.

I’m thinking about the movement from the dark into the light…

I understand now how thoughts slowly germinate in the dark, projects and understandings mull over in the depths of my mind until they rise into the light and a decision is made…

Its a slow process, knowing deep down what must be done, and waiting for that deep knowing to become strong enough to grow into choice and action.

It took five years of knowing that I would become vegetarian to actually doing it, because that knowing had to seep into my bones, had to become right on every level, had to become so ingrained in me that my conscious mind accepted it. There are ways to speed this process up, magic, spellworking, NLP, the ‘One Command’… and there is also space for this process to slowly unfold within me. Sometimes, this is the right way.

I am often impatient, and I am finally coming to know, in my bones, that its ok for things to take time, to become strong before they are exposed to the light. If that choice to become vegetarian hadn’t rooted in my bones, I’d have crumbled in the first week when I had to face family and travel and a funeral. If I don’t nurture that hope, that I express but cannot yet state, until it is so strong I cannot deny it, then it will fade in the harsh light of day.

Sometimes things can be acted on right away. Sometimes they need to germinate. And sometimes they germinate for too long and never grow.

Funnily enough thats always been the case… at the points I think I might finally have managed my finances for long enough to start saving, or an unexpected bit of cash comes in, then something happens, and that little bit of extra money I was hoping for goes on that.

And conversely, when I set my heart on something, I say ‘this is what I’m doing, even though it’ll take me over what I’ve got coming in’, then just enough extra cash comes in to cover whats needed.

I’m currently living in my overdraft, over by a month each month. I’m doing better than several people I know, and many people country-wide. Though there is no real reason I should be living a month behind my wages, spending what I’ve earnt in the month I earn it. This is how it is, though I was previously spending all of what I earnt after I’d been paid it, its only been the past year that my overdraft has begun feeling like money – coincidentally this happened alongside my having to live out of it on a regular basis, so I’m not sure which came first!

So I always have enough. And I’m grateful, very very grateful… it’d be nice to shift this thinking though, to something with more of a safety net, and to see if my finances follow my thoughts.

I’m curious about how many other people have noticed this kind of thing in their own lives? What are your patterns of thought around money (or something else) and how does that match what happens… and, if you’ve tried it, has shifting your thinking helped?

Time for some spellworking, for sure! Time to shift how I think, and invite some money in…